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Page 54 - them all. I, in my pleached garden, watched the pomp, Forgot my morning wishes, hastily Took a few herbs and apples, and the Day Turnęd, and departed silent. I, too late, Under her solemn fillet saw the scorn.

Page 23 - still hidden from us—a change from era to era. The paths trodden by the footsteps of ages were broken up; old things were passing away, and the faith and the life of ten centuries were dissolving like a dream. Chivalry was dying. The abbey and the castle were soon to crumble

Page 25 - it is all gone, like an unsubstantial pageant faded, and between us and the old English there lies a gulf of mystery which the prose of the historian will never adequately bridge. They cannot come to us, and our imagination

Page 29 - Tilled Fields, . . and Books. In which third, truly, the last invented, lies a worth far surpassing that of the two others. Wondrous, indeed, is the virtue of a true Book. . . The true University of these days is a collection of Books.

Page 29 - Select Committee on the existing public libraries in Great Britain and Ireland, and on the best means of extending the establishment of libraries freely open to the public, especially in large towns.